


Back in Black

by Aerys_Krystie



Series: Back in Black [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clueless Derek Hale, F/M, Good Friend Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore is Part of the Pack, M/M, Makeup Sex, Some Humor, Unspoken Incidents, Werewolf Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28647213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerys_Krystie/pseuds/Aerys_Krystie
Summary: Jackson has an accident and tries to make it better with unexpected consequences.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Series: Back in Black [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099415
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Back in Black

**~Back in Black~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

 **Theme:** AU – post-Season 2.

 **Plot:** Jackson has an accident and tries to make it better with unexpected consequences.

 **Warnings:** Slash, language, OOC.

 **Disclaimer:** Everything of and referring to _Teen Wolf_ is not mine. This is a fan-made, non-profit story. Please support the official release.

* * *

“Oh, dude… You’re fucked.”

“Thanks, Stilinski. Helpful.”

Jackson glared at Stiles, mostly so he didn’t have to see the Greek tragedy in front of him. That didn’t stop him from smelling it or feeling the heat of the flames. He wondered if he would come back a third time and was almost certain Derek would make sure he stayed dead when he discovered what happened. Jackson closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart.

“How—?”

“ _Don’t_ finish that questions,” Jackson warned, opening his eyes that flashed blue.

Stiles held his hands up and backed away from Jackson, who pulled his wolf back. He wasn’t going to explain how it happened, as he had no idea how it did. How was he meant to know that cough syrup was flammable? Fear settled in him again as he returned his eyes to the mess in front of him. There had to be some way out of the current situation, where he was still alive at the end of it. Nothing was coming to him.

“Okay,” Jackson said, sounding far calmer than he felt. “If anyone asks, it was space pirates.”

Stiles stared at Jackson. “I think he might buy that more than you…Seriously! How?”

“I don’t know!” Jackson shouted and fell to his knees, staring at the burning pile in front of him. “This is just like the jockstrap incident.”

Stiles flinched. “We swore never to speak of that again!” he snapped, before he sighed and sat beside Jackson. “You managed to get out of that one without consequence, either.”

“Those involved weren’t an alpha werewolf!” Jackson placed a hand to his throat, knowing that’s what he would rip out first. How could he be so careless? “Wait,” he said slowly, turning his eyes from the burning mess in front of him. “What about the sock incident of sixth grade?”

Stiles stared at Jackson, eyes widen and almost frightened. “I had _almost_ repressed _that_ memory! Why do you have to bring up shit like that, man?”

Jackson growled and glared at Stiles. “I’ve been a werewolf for a whole month, Stilinski. My control might waver,” he threatened and Stiles gulped. “How did we manage to get out of that one?”

“Dude, it was dyed pink, not _on fire_!” Stiles gestured at the fire in front of them, as though Jackson could somehow forget about it. “Hang on, nursery school. There was the elephant incident.”

Jackson’s eyes widened and he nodded. “We replaced it and no one knew!” He jumped to his feet, rubbing his hands together. “All right. I just need to get a perfect replica and then smear all our scents in it.”

“That might not be as easy as you’re making it sound, man,” Stiles said as he stood up. “What if they don’t make it anymore?” He glanced at the fiery mess again. “And how are you gonna explain this when he finds it? I’m pretty sure everyone can smell it by now.”

Jackson bit his lower lip. “I can think on that while I try to find the perfect replacement. You need to keep him busy,” he said and Stiles’ eyes widened. “Because he’ll ask me where it is! And that creepy motherfucker always knows when I’m lying. If you ask inane questions about Christ knows what, he’ll just get angry and he won’t question where I am. Also, steal some of his underwear if you can.”

“The fuck, Jacks?!” Jackson frowned as he smelled embarrassment from Stiles, as though stealing someone’s underwear was a bad thing. “I’ll steal pants, at the _most_!”

Jackson rolled his eyes, wondering why Stiles had such an issue with his task. “Underwear holds more of his scent. Just tell him you’re doing the laundry.”

“Does he even _wear_ —?”

“Most of the time!” Jackson snapped with a glare. Stiles’ embarrassment was replaced with curiosity. “Oh, come on. Like you wouldn’t tap his ass as well.” Stiles’ eyebrows went up, but he didn’t argue the fact.

“How long?”

“I shouldn’t need more than two weeks.”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant how long have you been tapping his ass?” Jackson frowned, wondering when he ever said he had. “Oh, you meant that you’d like to. Oh wow. You’re fucked and not in the way you want. And I have to distract him for _two weeks_?!”

“If I’m lucky!” Jackson groaned and pulled out his phone, going to Google and putting in the search he wanted. “Shit. This might be harder than I thought. Actually, I can just tell him that I was getting it detailed.”

“He’ll want to know why it took two weeks for that. Detailing takes, at most, two hours.” Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, staring at Jackson. “You never did tell me how—”

“It wasn’t too dissimilar to the jockstrap incident _and_ the tent incident.” Jackson smiled nervously as Stiles’ eyes widened and his mouth dropped. “It was an accident!”

“How the fuck do you keep setting fire to shit, Jacks?!”

Jackson growled. “That’s a perfectly fine question! When I have an actual answer, I’ll let you know!”

Stiles began pacing, unable to take his eyes off the still burning mess in front of them. “He’s gonna know something’s wrong, man. And he’ll want to know why you aren’t with the pack.”

Jackson raised his eyes and smirked. “That’s why I have parents that are lawyers.” He dialed a number. “Yeah, Derek? Something’s come up and I need to leave town for a couple of weeks.”

“No.”

“I don’t care, I’m leaving.”

“You’re _barely_ a werewolf, Jackson.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, ass clown,” Jackson growled with a pout.

There was a slight pause. “What’s the noise in the background?”

Jackson’s eyes widened and he looked at the fire that was roaring. “I’m going through a tunnel.” He hung up, eyes still wide and he knew he was pale. He was in trouble. “Two weeks,” he said to Stiles. “And try to keep them from this area.”

“ _How_ am I meant to do that, Jacks? I’m merely human and their curiosity is worse than a cat’s!”

Jackson opened his mouth to argue, but closed it and regarded Stiles. “That’s a good idea,” he said with a grin.

Stiles went to ask, but Jackson ran from the human. He bit his hand, splashing his blood around, taking it away from the burning that was still going on. He ran for miles, leaving a blood trail that would get the werewolves’ attention a lot more than something that was burned. After half an hour, he returned to Stiles and grinned, knowing he still had his blood around his mouth.

“That was a good idea,” Stiles said as he stared at the blood. “And it should work a lot better than me trying to force a werewolf back.”

“Okay, well, Derek heard the fire. He’ll probably ask you about it. Just say we were camping out or something. Then go back to asking questions about the supernatural. Find something so obscure that he’ll want to do research on it.” Jackson checked his phone, seeing his father had texted him, saying that Derek just called him. “Fuck. Derek called my dad.”

“This is what happens when you tell lies, man,” Stiles said with a hint of scorn in his voice.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “You want to relive the jockstrap incident?” He smirked when Stiles flinched and shook his head. “Also, I’m leaving for two weeks. _You’ll_ be the one to face his wrath, should he find out what happened. Did you want that?”

Stiles sighed and shook his head. “I hate how easily you rope me into this shit.”

“You love me,” Jackson said as he replied to his father’s message. “Besides, you love getting into this shit, as well. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have come running when I called.”

“No, that’s not true! I had to see if it was possible for you fuck up more than when you were the kanima.” Stiles looked at the fire and winced. “You somehow found a way to go beyond. I think this is about to become the new jockstrap incident.” He sighed and shook his head.

“I thought we agreed never to talk about that?” Jackson asked as he held his phone to his ear. “This will be like the jockstrap, sock and tent incidents. We’re never to talk about them again. And if you do or even _think_ of mentioning it, I’ll—Hello!”

Stiles shook his again as Jackson spoke to whoever was on the other end of the phone. He jumped when the fire gave a particularly loud pop and stood beside Jackson, as he was further from the ‘incident.’ There were times he wondered how he got involved with the supernatural messes and there were times he was grateful for it. This was one of those times where he wondered why he hadn’t begged his father to move away. Dealing with Derek’s wrath was something he didn’t want to deal with.

“All right. Thanks.” Jackson smiled as he hung up. “I need to make sure all the details are correct.” He froze when he realized he wasn’t entirely sure what the details were. “Please tell me someone has pictures!”

“You were literally just—” Stiles cut himself off when Jackson’s eyes glittered blue for a moment. “I’ll go through his phone, as well. I’ll see if he has any pictures. You just get it back!” Before he turned away from Jackson, he paused. “What if he notices his underwear is missing?”

“Just tell him I asked for it,” Jackson said with a shrug and smirked as Stiles’ eyes widened. “Trust me. He won’t argue with you after that.”

“Okay, that just raised way more questions than how you managed to set fire to—”

“I know. If he does ask questions about me wanting his underwear, tell him I’m still trying to work on that voodoo doll.” Jackson grinned as Stiles blinked at him. “I’ll need articles of clothing from the others, as well as you and Scott,” he added and Stiles blinked again. “I need to make sure the scents are right.” With a frown, Jackson walked away from the fire, muttering, “It was leather, wasn’t it?”

* * *

“Hey, Sourwolf,” Stiles said a week later, walking into the loft. Derek didn’t glance at him and Stiles rolled his eyes. He had no doubt that Derek was tired of seeing him, but he needed to make sure Jackson was safe. As a werewolf, Jackson was a lot better than when he was a human and infinitely better than when he was the kanima. “You’re not even gonna greet me? I think we need to bring back those etiquette lessons and the trust falls.”

Derek growled and glared at Stiles, who just smiled. Much like the jockstrap and tent incidents, he and Derek didn’t talk about the etiquette lessons and trust falls. Neither of those had worked out well for all involved. They weren’t nearly as bad as the jockstrap incident, which, when thinking about it, still made Stiles flinch. There were times that he wanted to curl up in the fetal position.

“Any word from Jackson?” Derek asked, reading the page of the book in front of him. “I haven’t heard from him since he told me he was leaving.”

“No, I haven’t heard anything from him,” Stiles said, which was _technically_ true. Jackson seemed to know what questions Derek would ask. He hadn’t heard from Jackson, but he had texted with the new beta.

“Did he tell you why he was leaving?” Derek asked and looked at Stiles.

With a frown, Stiles studied Derek’s face. He was almost certain that Derek was worried about Jackson, which made him scared. Derek didn’t show his worry for others so plainly, which meant he thought Jackson was in serious trouble. Stiles hadn’t wanted to lie to Derek to begin with, but now he was feeling extra guilty about it.

“Didn’t say a thing to me, just that he would be back in two weeks,” Stiles answered and went to the table. “Why are you so worried about him?”

“It’s been just over a month of him being a werewolf. I’m scared that he hasn’t beaten the kanima thing entirely. I don’t need him killing more people or taking on a new master.” Derek sighed and pushed the book away. “For him to just disappear and not answer anyone’s calls or texts…”

Stiles worked hard to keep his scent neutral. The last thing he needed was Derek picking up something from him and then scaring it from him. Jackson would never forgive him if he told Derek the real reason why he left. Stiles would never forgive himself for betraying that kind of secret, either. It had obviously been a complete accident and Jackson was working hard to fix it.

“If he was having problems, I think he’d talk to you about them,” Stiles said gently, trying to keep his eyes steady as Derek stared at him. “He isn’t the jerk he was as a human.” He shrugged and Derek’s eyes narrowed slightly. Stiles sighed. “He told me he’s having nightmares.”

Derek’s eyebrows did a strange dance, which had Stiles cocking one of his. “I didn’t know that,” Derek finally said, his face blank. “He didn’t seem tired at training.”

“You know he’s good at hiding stuff like that.” Stiles sat opposite Derek. “I think he just needed a small break from Beacon Hills to…heal.”

“He could’ve said that. I wouldn’t have stopped him from leaving,” Derek said, a hint of defeat in his voice.

“You would’ve wanted to go with him. He probably didn’t want anyone around.” Stiles shrugged when Derek’s eyes snapped to him again. “Come on, Sourwolf. You and Jackson are a match and a fuse. Alone, you’re harmless. Together, you can destroy something.” He smirked when Derek’s eyes went red for a second.

“Shut up, Stilinski. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Stiles leaned forward, smirking. “Is that why you haven’t been sleeping? Is that why you’ve been sending him text messages every hour, wanting to know where is and if he’s safe?” He had to bite his tongue until he tasted blood when he saw that Derek was blushing.

“How do you know that if you haven’t spoken to him?” Derek shot at him with a dark scowl.

“Because if I wanted Jackson the same way you do, I’d be doing that,” Stiles said with a shrug. Derek didn’t need to know that Jackson was genuinely scared that Derek knew something with all the texts.

Derek growled, before he stood up and turned his back to Stiles. “I’m just worried about the safety of those around him,” he said, throwing a glare over his shoulder.

“Uh-huh,” Stiles drawled, the smirk returning. “You know, you don’t have to hide it. I get the feeling he wants you, too.” He grinned when Derek snarled and made tea in a very violent manner. There was a lot of banging and growling. “Is it really such a bad thing, Sourwolf?”

Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw Derek’s claws come out. That was worrying. “He has no interest in me. If he cared, he would have told me about the nightmares!”

Stiles sat up straighter, staring at Derek’s back. “Are you…jealous?” Growl. “You do realize that he was probably working up the nerve to mention it, right?” Growl. “He doesn’t want to look weak in front of you, again.” Snarl with a glare. “He respects you.”

“Barely,” Derek snapped and returned to the table.

Stiles rolled his eyes, wondering how he managed to become the relationship therapist for their group. “Give him a reason to trust you that doesn’t result in him bleeding…unless he wants you to make him bleed. Fuck, I don’t know what you two are into.”

Derek scoffed and drank his tea, eyes going back to the book. He grabbed his phone when it vibrated and growled at the message. Stiles was going to assume it wasn’t from Jackson and grabbed one of the books that Derek wasn’t reading. He had tried to distract Derek with obscure supernaturals, but it seemed he had more knowledge than Stiles thought. It took him ages to find something and even then Derek told him what he needed to do. So, he just simply asked what the difference between a spirit and a phantom was. After two days, Derek told him there wasn’t one.

“What’s an enenra?”

Derek looked up, mug to his lips and frowned at Stiles. “A what? Is that something we need to worry about?” Before Stiles could answer, Derek’s phone vibrated again. “Is that the real reason Jackson left?”

As Stiles was going to answer, his phone vibrated. _I wasn’t responsible for the…incident. There’s an enenra following me._ Stiles’ eyes widened at the message from Jackson. _Dude, I literally just asked Sourwolf about one of those._ He couldn’t believe what was happening. Jackson’s response was almost immediate. _Sweet. HOW do we get rid of it? I can’t have it attacking this one, as well._ Stiles blinked. _I still need his underwear, as well._ Stiles groaned, ignoring the way Derek looked at him.

“Why is Jackson asking me about an enenra, seconds after you mention it?”

“I honestly have no idea.” Stiles typed out his response. _They’re smoke monsters. They don’t set shit on fire, man. You should know that you and cough syrup don’t mix._ He sent it off, still trying to think of a way to get rid of an enenra. “I was just asking about stuff I find online.” _Then why am I watching one set a building ablaze right now?_ Stiles frowned as the message came with a video. “Holy shit.”

The video showed something made of smoke moving around. Everywhere it stopped, flames started spreading from there. As far as Stiles knew, an enenra didn’t create fires, but was born of them. There really wasn’t much information around for them, which was why he had asked Derek about it. After all, it didn’t hurt to know everything he could about the supernatural world, just in case something like this happened.

Derek stood behind Stiles, watching the video. “Tell him to get home, now,” he said and Stiles jumped, still staring at the smoke that was setting a building on fire.

“You think he’s gonna ignore something like that?” Stiles asked and noticed the way Derek tensed. “Yeah, remember he’s not a complete dick.”

Derek growled and sat down again, picking up his phone. “You’re answering your phone now?” he demanded and Stiles could see Jackson rolling his eyes. “Get home, so we can figure it out. No, I don’t—What do you mean? How is that my prob—Stop cutting me—Jackson!” Stiles raised an eyebrow when Derek’s eyes flashed red. “Of course I have a vacuum. No, I won’t use it to trap a smoke monster!”

Stiles laughed as Derek glared at the table. If there was anymore proof needed that Derek liked Jackson a little more than the others, it was the way he always gave into Jackson’s demands. Derek often looked like a scolded child, glaring down at something while Jackson asked for something. He never asked for more than the others, just wanting a little extra free time and then using his kanima experience to guilt Derek.

“I’ll purchase a new one. How’s that?” Derek raised his eyes, staring over Stiles’ shoulder. “I don’t think make and model really mat—I told you to stop—No! Oh, come on, Jacks—I am _not_ pouting!” There was a short silence and Stiles couldn’t keep the grin from his face. Jackson really knew how to twist Derek around his finger. And Derek most definitely was pouting. “Okay. Okay. Yeah. Wait, what?” Derek blinked at his phone.

“He wants to trap a smoke monster in a vacuum?” Stiles asked, deciding his life was better served helping take care of an enenra, rather than teasing Derek about being whipped. “How does he know that’ll work?”

“It should with Shinto blessings, apparently,” Derek answered and stood up. “I don’t think there’s one of those in this town. Weird. We have basically everything else.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. Derek wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t important for the moment. “What can I do to help?”

“You can find me a Shinto priest,” Derek said as he grabbed his jacket. He patted himself down and began searching the loft. “Have you seen my car keys?” He paused and frowned. “Have you seen my car recently?”

“Not recently, no,” Stiles answered honestly, somehow managing to keep his heart quite steady. “I can get the vacuum cleaner, if you want to hunt down the priest,” he suggested and Derek’s eyes narrowed.

“Where’s my car, Stilinski?” Derek asked and Stiles stared at him.

“I don’t know. Who was the last person to drive it?”

Derek’s knuckles cracked as his hands became fists. “ _Where_ is my car?”

“I. Don’t. Know,” Stiles said slowly, which was true. He couldn’t remember where in the woodland the car was. “Why don’t you try asking the last person to drive it?”

“That was Jackson and he’s not gonna tell me, either.” Derek growled and pulled his jacket off. “Get the vacuum cleaner. I’ll search for the priest.”

\--

Stiles frowned as the vacuum cleaner trick seemed to work. They trapped the enenra within the dirtbag and the fires were put out. Jackson wasn’t anywhere around, except sending updates on what was happening. Derek was surprised he was able to find a Shinto priest at that hour, in that town. Stiles knew that if anyone could find an obscure religious person, Derek could.

 _How goes it with fixing the…incident?_ Stiles sent to Jackson as he laid on his bed. Jackson hadn’t mentioned that he would be back within the week and Stiles had already stolen Derek’s phone and sent the pictures he could find that Jackson needed. The next thing to steal was clothing, which wasn’t something he was looking for to. His phone vibrated in his hand and he looked at the reply.

 _Almost done. I’ll be back in Beacon Hills tomorrow afternoon. Meet me at the school with what I need._ Stiles sighed softly and closed his eyes. It was just like the jockstrap incident.

* * *

Jackson didn’t ask any questions as Stiles dropped a garbage bag filled with laundry. He took what was needed out of it, which were the pieces that held the strongest scents of the pack and rubbed them where it was needed. He searched through the bag, making sure he placed hairs from shirts where they were needed, as well. He couldn’t run the risk of Derek noticing anything amiss. After going for a run in the woods, he made sure there was plenty of dirt around.

“I can’t believe I’m watching this,” Stiles said with a shake of his head.

“Would you rather attend my funeral, instead?” Jackson asked, throwing the last piece of laundry back into the bag. “You better get those to the laundromat, otherwise Derek will ask questions…again.”

“By the way,” Stiles began as he hoisted the bag over his shoulder. “Why haven’t you made a move on Sourwolf?”

“He can’t let go of his guilt for what happened to me,” Jackson answered with a shrug. “Once that happens, I’ll blow his fucking mind.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and returned to his jeep. He waved as he drove away and Jackson knew he should attend the final lesson of school, but instead he went to the loft. He pulled open the door and listened. No one was in and he released the tension from his body, dropping the keys on the table in the kitchen. As he was turning to leave, he froze when he heard a heartbeat coming up the stairs.

Pursing his lips, Jackson bit the lower one and gazed at the door, trying to remain as calm as possible. Derek entered, gazing at the door curiously. He relaxed when he saw Jackson resting against the kitchen counter, a glass of orange juice beside him. Derek narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as though Jackson being there meant something really bad was going to happen. Jackson rolled his eyes.

“Why aren’t you in school?” Derek asked, dropping his mail beside the keys. He frowned at them. “You finally brought my car back?”

“She needed someone to give her a good workout,” Jackson said with a shrug, smirking at Derek’s glare. “Calm down, Alpha Killjoy. She’s in one piece. She was also serviced.”

Derek narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to Jackson. “You got my car serviced, as well?” He ran his eyes over Jackson, as though trying to find something. “What else did you do?”

Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes. “I also had an orgy in it, if you really want to know.” He blinked as Derek got closer, almost boxing him in. “It won’t happen again.”

Derek frowned, dipping his head and nuzzling at Jackson’s throat. Jackson sighed and tilted his head a little, giving Derek better access. He knew the alpha would smell all the scents on him, as he had fondled their laundry and he would be curious about that.

“Did you have an orgy with the pack?” Derek asked, sniffing down Jackson’s chest. “You reek of the pack.”

“I was in _your_ car, which reeks of the pack,” Jackson said as Derek went lower. He frowned as Derek lifted his shirt and sniffed along his abdomen. “If you want me naked, Alpha, you just need to ask.”

Derek growled in warning, but didn’t move and continued to lift Jackson’s shirt. “It’s strongest on your hands.” He stood up and stared into Jackson’s eyes. “Where did you go?”

“Booty call.” Jackson smirked into Derek’s eyes, knowing he was trying to search them for a lie. “He may have rocked the car as much as he did my world.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Jackson gasped as he turned around and pressed into the counter, Derek’s hot mouth on the back of his neck, teeth grazing over it. Derek’s growl went straight to Jackson’s groin, possessive and demanding. Jackson gripped Derek’s hands and pushed back against him, wishing that Derek could go the full distance with them.

Jackson growled and shoved back, forcing Derek to take a step. He turned around and pushed Derek down to the floor, ripping the shirt from the alpha’s body, straddling his hips. He removed his own shirt and leaned down, placing gentle kisses along the strong chest on display. Derek’s rough hands were hot and heavy on his back, nails raking over the skin, digging in as Jackson licked his throat.

The rest of the pack was making their way up the stairs and Jackson glared at the open door to the loft. The moment he saw Erica and Boyd, his eyes sparkled blue. “Fuck off,” he warned, the betas freezing and taking in the scene before them.

The betas nodded and turned around, leaving the building. Derek sighed. “You probably shouldn’t have done that,” he said softly and Jackson sat back, feeling the hardness pressing against his ass.

“I’m not stopping this time,” Jackson stated with a glare. “And you’re not gonna let Alpha Killjoy out. When it’s all said and done, it’ll be just like the black cherry incident.”

Derek growled and sat up. “We swore never to mention it again,” he hissed, eyes red.

Jackson pressed his mouth to Derek’s, shivering when the kiss was deepened and he tasted Derek’s tongue. He pressed as close as possible to the alpha, letting out a small moan as Derek’s hips jerked up, reminding Jackson of the erection he was sporting. Jackson pulled back from the kiss, keeping eyes closed and focusing on the taste of Derek that was on his tongue. He hated how good of a kisser Derek was.

He opened his eyes and licked Derek’s lips. “You might have to fuck it from my memory.”

Derek grinned and stood up, keeping Jackson with him. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

* * *

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it! If you did, drop a kudos or leave a comment.
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


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